Do you see a resemblence?
Naomi recommends the Books of Elsewhere by Jacqueline West.
Noah turned 13 on Friday. Thursday night was his first Choir concert of the year. This is his second year in the Beaver Lake Choir and he is one of about 30 in the boys choir. Participation seems to be up among the boys. It could be the possibility of going to Disney in 8th grade. Or the fact that Mrs. W. has made it a very welcoming place for the guys, a place where you get to sing Monty Python and where getting up in front of your buds and singing is a cool thing.
In a choir, your voice is blended so aside from a few shower arias, we don’t exactly know what their voices are like. That is the case until they do a solo at one of the concerts. Noah sang the opening to “Proud To Be An American” as part of the Veteran’s tribute. This is a bit of a tradition for the Choir at the fall show. Now we know that Noah has a beautifully developing bass, can carry a tune with skill, and has the poise to sing in front of an audience. It was quite the nice birthday present from Noah.
The next day, he got to do a repeat performance in front of the entire school and he learned that when you put yourself out there in front of the student body, you become instantly recognizable. Then when word leaks that it’s also your birthday, you get a lot of happy birthday wishes while passing in the hall.
A pinch seems to settle the mind. Try it!
Weather dominates our perception of fall. September was rainy with a steady line of storms marching up from the south. That means headwinds on the ride home. Our Enchantments backpacking trip was cancelled by a massive rainstorm that socked everything in for an entire drenched weekend. The result was early snow in the high country and a reminder that ski season is not far behind. High pressure pushed in and brought a deep temperature inversion that makes cold dense fog on the West side of the mountains, typical for January, but again, unusual for October.
The maples in the neighborhood turned gorgeous red and yellow and a lack of wind has kept them on the trees, coloring the landscape.
I stole out one Sunday morning, the day after the full moon to try to catch the moonset and sunrise. At North Bend, the wall of fog gave way to perfectly clear skies and a warm romp through the snow to the lookout. The moon grew large on the horizon and faded as it set behind the Olympics.
We took one last camping trip to the White River Campground at Mt. Rainier, hoping to catch a little off-season peace and quiet. We hoped the campground would have plenty of room but the spaces were filled and we grabbed one of the last two spots. It was a warm night on perhaps the last summery night of the year. We played near the river, listening to the rocks tumble and crash in the riverbed. We walked tenuously over the narrow footbridge, one slip away from the clutches of the chilling white water.
In the morning, we packed up and hiked the Glacier Basin trail. Just a few weeks before, we had looked down into the valley we were now hiking from the top of Burroughs Mountain. We hiked in the land of bears and porcupines, mushrooms and huckleberries. The river called and we played some more, letting the silky black glacier silt sift through our fingers.
In the heart of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, along the Pacific Crest Trail, is a lake of tremendous beauty. The boys and I trekked the 11 miles each way to camp on it’s granite shore beneath the starry skies for two nights over Labor Day weekend. The scene was so peaceful, it felt as if you should whisper to not disturb that amazing place.
The basin is rimmed by three amazing peaks, Three Queens, Chikamin, and Lemah Peak. The water was at times so still, we were mesmerized by the ripples created by tossing small stones into the crystalline water.